One Shot Series
by zephiey
Summary: A series of one shots featuring the characters of Dallas. Each story is rated individually, is complete and stands on its own. Overall content will be M rated.
1. As Usual

**Title:** As Usual

**Author:** zephiey

**Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Sue Ellen/ JR  
**Category:** One Shot

**Warnings:** Angst  
**Disclaimer:** Dallas and its characters are the property of CBS, Larry Katzman and Warner Bros Studios. No infringement is intended from this work of fiction.

**Summary: **JR tries to come to terms with losing…her. Inspired by As Usual by Brenda Lee.

* * *

**As Usual**

_The sun comes up and brings the dawn  
As usual  
When I awake I'll find you gone  
As usual  
But I can't find a way to let  
This crazy heart of mine forget  
I pretend you're still beside me  
As usual  
Each evening I take a walk  
As usual  
I make believe that we still talk  
As usual  
People always stop and stare  
I guess they just don't see you there  
Don't they know you'll always be right here  
As usual  
Today I looked into my mirror  
As usual  
I told myself that you're still here  
As usual  
And as I stood there telling lies  
The tears began to fill my eyes  
Cause I know I'm only fooling myself  
As usual_

* * *

JR woke.

His head pounded and his mouth tasted like ten miles of dusty road.

Slowly levering himself out of bed, he stumbled to the bathroom. He barely managed to reach the toilet before his stomach protested; expelling the excessive amount of bourbon he had drunk the night before.

Resting his pounding head against the cool porcelain, JR waited. He knew from experience the feeling of nausea would pass.

It always did.

Slowly rising from his kneeling position JR moved to the sink, filling a dirty glass with water before drinking it down thirstily. Two more glasses of water joined the first before JR reached for his toothbrush and toothpaste. He brushed the sick taste from his mouth, the cool taste of mint almost causing him to retch before a deep breath forced the nauseous feeling away. Rinsing his mouth, he dropped the toothbrush into the sink before he clumsily removed his clothes and with slow steps climbed into the shower.

The hot water cascaded over him as he washed the smell and feel of last night off his skin. Clean, he continued to stand under the hot spray, his hands braced against the wall, his eyes closed as he took deep breaths, his body shaking from the excesses he subjected it to last night. Turning off the water, he wearily climbed out of the shower, wrapping the towel around his waist. He walked back into the bedroom.

Moving to the end table, he grabbed the bottle of bourbon that sat there and poured a shot. "Hair of the dog," he whispered, before slamming the shot back. He quickly poured himself another then a third. Feeling the effects of the alcohol almost immediately, JR turned and looked into the mirror.

She had left.

She had taken everything with her.

Everything that mattered to him and no one knew where she was.

He had kept telling himself that she would be back. Kept lying, saying she would come crawling back, as usual.

She always came back.

But as days turned to weeks and weeks to months, he realized she wasn't going to come back.

She was gone. And he was to blame, as usual.

**The End**


	2. Goodbyes

**Title:** Goodbyes

**Author:** zephiey

**Rating:** K

**Pairing:** Sue Ellen/ JR  
**Category:** One Shot, AU

**Warnings:** Angst  
**Disclaimer:** Dallas and its characters are the property of CBS, Larry Katzman and Warner Bros Studios. No infringement is intended from this work of fiction.

**Summary: **JR leaves Southfork and Ewing Oil.

* * *

**Goodbyes**

* * *

JR tucked the letter into the envelope and wrote Sue Ellen's name on the front. This was perhaps the hardest letter to write and the most truthful. Even though the letters he had written to Bobby, Pam and Mama were truthful, they didn't contain the brutal honesty Sue Ellen's letter held.

JR picked up the four letters, and walked to the dining room. The table was set for breakfast and he sat a letter at the four places. Passing by his Daddy's place, he ran his hand across the chair top.

He hadn't written a letter to his Daddy.

He couldn't.

He tried.

He really did.

But every time he set pen to paper nothing but bitterness flowed from him. Jock Ewing was his daddy and he didn't deserve his bitterness, he deserved his love and his respect. It wasn't Daddy's fault he turned out as he had. He just hadn't learned what his daddy tried to teach him very well. That was all.

JR Ewing was the failure, not Jock Ewing.

Finally, after four tries he decided it was just better to add a few lines to Daddy in Mama's letter. Letting his hand drop from the back of Jock's chair JR walked to the door of the dining room. For a brief moment he could see in his mind's eye how everyone would look at breakfast and a soft smile formed before he turned and left the room.

Walking to the front door he placed the brown Stetson, the first one Sue Ellen had bought him on his head, before reaching for the large duffle bag that sat at the front door. Opening the door he took one last look at the only home he had ever known before he stepped through the door and quietly closed it behind him.

Reaching the Ford pick-up he had bought he opened the passenger side door and tossed his bag inside. It joined the other two bags already resting on the floorboard of the truck. Walking around to the driver side JR climbed into the cab before closing the door. Placing his Stetson down on the seat next to him, he started the truck, put it in gear and drove down the long Southfork driveway. Reaching the end of the driveway he took one last glance at the house in the rear-view mirror.

Maybe one day he would return.

Turning right onto the county road, JR headed off into whatever future awaited him.

* * *

Sue Ellen entered the dining room with John Ross on her hip. They were the first ones at the table this morning. Placing him in his high chair, she poured milk into a sippy cup before adding some eggs and a few small pieces of sausage to a plate. Placing it in front of him she smiled as she watched him begin to eat.

Turning back to her plate, she noticed the crème envelope with her name scrawled across it in JR's masculine writing resting against her coffee cup. Picking the letter up, she deftly opened the envelope and pulled the letter out.

It began… _To my wife and the mother of my son, dearest Sue Ellen…_

**The End**


	3. Rage

**Title:** Rage

**Author:** zephiey

**Rating:** T

**Pairing:** None  
**Category:** One Shot, AU

**Warnings:** Violence

**Disclaimer:** Dallas and its characters are the property of CBS, Larry Katzman and Warner Bros Studios. No infringement is intended from this work of fiction.

**Summary: **The rage finally breaks free.

* * *

**Rage**

* * *

His control was absolute.

His temper was always leashed even under the most extreme circumstances.

It had to be.

Anything else was too dangerous. The consequences too dire.

He kept a tight rein on his temper, never letting the rage simmering just below the surface to explode.

But that changed today.

* * *

His head snapped back at the first hit.

The second hit caused him to stumble before regaining his balance.

The third hit never landed.

He blocked it.

He could feel the white-hot rage begin to rise and he did nothing to stop it. He let it fill every cell of his body until his very blood was screaming for death.

His first punch snapped the man's head to the side.

His second punch knocked the breath from his assailant, and he fell to his knees.

The third punch laid the man flat on his back with him kneeling above him as he repeatedly punched him in the face.

Hands scrambled to pull him off. He shook them free, attacking the others just a violently as he had defended himself.

Blows landed to bodies, the splat and squish of flesh meeting flesh loud in the roaring silence. Fists pummelled him as he fought.

The rage revelled in the carnage fuelled by the image of his wife in another's arms, by the loss of his son and the betrayal of his brother. The rage fed off all the pain and anguish, revelling in the damage it inflicted.

He continued to return to the first man to batter him again and again.

Finally, hands managed to subdue him. It took six to strong arm him into handcuffs and secure him, reducing his weapons but not eliminating them; six to force him to the ground as he struggled, snarling and growling, more animal than man.

John Ross Ewing Jr. had let the rage slip free it shackles, granting it full power and nothing would ever be the same again.

**The End**


	4. Lessons

_Jock and Miss Ellie had a good marriage or so it seemed. We know Jock cheated on Miss Ellie at least once and Ray was the result of that affair. But what if that one affair wasn't the only one. What if he was as much a womanizer as JR is now. Sue Ellen had tried to change JR, what if Miss Ellie had tried the same thing with Jock. What if she showed him what he was losing, taught him a lesson that forced him to change his ways. This story explores that possibility. _

**Title:** Lessons

**Author:** zephiey

**Rating:** M

**Pairing:** Miss Ellie/Jock  
**Category:** One Shot

**Warnings:** Drama  
**Disclaimer:** Dallas and its characters are the property of CBS, Larry Katzman and Warner Bros Studios. No infringement is intended from this work of fiction.

**Summary: **Miss Ellie teaches Jock a lesson he will never forget.

**Lessons**

* * *

"Thank you for watching them Mavis," said Ellie.

"No thanks are necessary, Ellie" said Mavis. "Are you sure you are going to be okay by yourself?"

"I'll be fine Mavis. Now John Ross you mind Miss Mavis and help her with your brother Gary," said Miss Ellie, kissing the cheek of her oldest son. "I'll be back in two days, okay?"

"Yes, Mama," said John Ross. "Be careful and I'll listen real good for Miss Mavis," he said.

"Good boy," said Ellie, ruffling his hair before giving Gary a kiss. Ellie walked around car to the driver's side. She got in, waved to Mavis and the boys before turning the car around and heading to town and the airport. Her flight to Tulsa would leave in two hours and in four hours Ellie would be in Broken Arrow. Jock Ewing was about to get the surprise of his life.

* * *

Ellie paid the cab driver.

"Ma'am are you sure this is where you want to be dropped off at?" asked the driver. The woman didn't look like the type that would frequent a place like this.

"Yes, it is," said Ellie, closing her purse and picking up her suitcase. She walked into the hotel, ignoring the looks she was receiving from the various men in the lobby. Walking up to the front desk, she was just about to ask what room Jock Ewing was in when Punk Anderson stepped forward.

"Miss Ellie," said Punk. "What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised and suddenly nervous at seeing Miss Ellie here in Broken Arrow. Ellie turned to look at Punk and Punk took an involuntary step back.

"What room is he in?" Ellie asked softly.

"Umm… Miss Ellie…," began Punk.

"The room Punk," Ellie said. Her voice was soft and controlled. Punk swallowed anxiously.

"Punk…," said Ellie, the steel in her voice unmistakable.

"302 Ellie, but I don't…," began Punk but stopped speaking as Ellie picked up her suitcase and entered the elevator the doors closing on her immediately.

Punk looked around then ran a hand through his hair. Walking to the bar, he ordered double bourbon, drinking it down in one gulp. Punk knew Jock was a dead man.

Ellie walked down the hall to room 302. Knocking on the door, she waited patiently. A scantily clad redheaded woman opened the door. "Yea," she said.

Ellie walked inside ignoring the woman's spluttered protests. Looking at the woman Ellie asked, "How much?"

A look of confusion graced the redhead's face before understanding dawned.

"Five hundred dollars," the redhead said, smirking at the petite blonde haired woman.

Ellie reached into her purse, pulled out a single thousand-dollar bill and handed it to the woman. "Leave," said Ellie.

"But my things…" Red began, trailing off when she saw the look on the other woman's face. Deciding she could buy new clothes she quickly left, not bothering to close the door. Ellie walked over to the door and softly closing and locking it. Picking up her suitcase, she walked into the bedroom.

On the bed asleep, a sheet barely covering him was her husband of eight years. Ellie placed her suitcase on the small stand near the dresser and opened it. Removing the padded tethers used to for horses and a quirt Ellie placed everything on the bed. Removing her coat then dress Ellie draped both items on one of the chairs. Picking up the tethers Ellie moved to the bed. Quietly and efficiently she tethered Jock's arms and legs to the bed. Satisfied he was secure she removed the new nightgown she had bought and entered the bathroom. Ten minutes later she emerged, showered and dressed in her new nightgown. Checking Jock, she sat down in one of the chairs and waited for her darling husband to wake.

* * *

Jock came awake slowly. His head hurt from too much drink and his body hurt from well…he smirked…he knew why his body hurt. He tried to stretch but he couldn't move his arms. His eyes widened when he turned his head to see the restraints on his wrists. Lifting his head he noticed his legs were also tethered.

"What the hell," he cursed angrily. He pulled and bucked trying to free himself, cursing the entire time.

"Relax Jock. You won't get free until I decide," a soft voice said from the other side of the darkened room.

"Ellie? What?" Jock asked confused. "What's the meaning of this woman?" he demanded, looking in the direction of her voice. "Dammit Ellie, release me," he demanded again. Light suddenly blinded him as the floor lamp next to the bed was switched on. Blinking his eyes to adjust them to the sudden light Jock hissed an indrawn breath at the sight that greeted him. Standing next to the bed, looking down at him was his wife of eight years, Miss Ellie. She was wearing a sheer black nightgown that left little to the imagination.

The nightgown emphasised her full breasts, her peaked nipples, and her slender waist that curved into generous hips. He could see the slight bulge of her mother's pouch in her lower belly and the trimmed hair hiding her centre. Her thighs and calves were smooth and he knew from experience the skin would be soft and silky. The low heels she wore lent her a bit of height and emphasised her nicely rounded bottom. Jock could feel the heat begin to race through his veins at the sight of his wife. It was always like this, this fire that seemed to burn whenever he was near Ellie. No other woman, and there were many, could ignite his passions like his wife.

"Ellie, why am I tied? And why are you wearing…," he began but stopped speaking when Ellie placed a finger to his lips to silence him. His eyes darkened as he enjoyed the sight of her leaning over him, her breasts just inches from his mouth and the sight and scent of her filling his senses.

"All in good time Jock, all in good time," said Ellie. "But first, we need to clean you up. I prefer you smelling only of you, not some cheap tramp," added Ellie. Jock's eyes widened at her statement. Jock immediately tried to explain.

"Ellie, I can explain," began Jock.

The crack of a whip near his chest surprised Jock. He stared at the dark leather quirt lying against the white sheet.

"Quiet," Ellie ordered softly. "Now you have two choices Jock. The first is to remain quiet while I wash you. The second is…," Ellie said, trailing the leather up Jock's side. "Let's just say the second is a bit more painful than the first. Now which do you choose?" she asked softly.

Jock stared at Ellie. He could see the anger in her eyes. He knew she could and would whip him if he continued to ignore her warning. He clenched his jaw, fighting down his anger and said, "The first Ellie…the first."

"Good," replied Ellie, laying the quirt down on the bedside table. Ellie walked to the bathroom and retrieved a pitcher and basin, washcloth and soap. Setting the basin on the floor next to the bed, she poured a bit of water from the pitcher into it, lathered up the washcloth and began to wash Jock.

She started at his shoulders, moving the washcloth over his arms to his hands. Rinsing his arms and hands she moved to his chest and sides. Washing then rinsing the soap from both areas she pulled the sheet off his legs, exposing them. She made sure the sheet remained covering his abdomen and groin. Washing first the left leg, she lingered over the skin of his upper thigh, moving the washcloth in a circular motion. The soft groan from Jock told her he wasn't unaffected by her attentions. She moved down his leg, to his foot and then back up again.

She repeated her attentions to his right leg, making sure to wash the skin of his upper thigh thoroughly. She could hear how his breath hitched every time she moved the washcloth over his thigh. She moved down his leg to his feet, washing then rinsing him.

Finally done with the majority of his body she dropped the washcloth into the basin. Moving back she looked up at Jock's face, his jaw clenched and his breathing ragged. She knew he was anticipating her washing the rest of him. Her body was also eagerly anticipating her actions. Her centre was moist and her skin flushed. For all his faults Jock Ewing was a handsome man and stirred a lust and longing unlike any other man. Even Digger Barnes, the man she had thought she had once loved couldn't ignite the passion inside her that Jock Ewing did. But it was more than simply lust for Jock, she loved him desperately, wholly and his cheating caused her heartache and pain unlike any she had ever experienced.

She had thought she could deal with his carousing. Thought she could ignore his womanizing but she discovered she couldn't and wouldn't accept him cheating on her. So she had come up with a plan to show him exactly what he was losing, exactly what he had lost. Hearing about the women her husband enjoyed from their eight-year-old son had been the final straw. John Ross had no idea what he was revealing or how much it hurt his mother. She had kept the tears from falling by sheer stubbornness, but later that night, alone in their cold bed at Southfork she had cried. Cried for the pain she was experiencing, cried for the loss of her husband and cried for the end of her marriage. After today, she, Eleanor Southworth Ewing would sleep alone, live alone and raise her sons alone.

She had had enough!

Ellie reached for the sheet that covered Jock. She pulled it off slowly, letting the cotton caress his growing arousal. Completely uncovered, Ellie bent down, retrieving the washcloth from the basin. Wringing it out, she lathered up the cloth before sitting down next to Jock. With sure practiced movement she began to wash her husband's abdomen and groin.

Jock gritted his teeth as he felt the sheet trail over his penis. The soft sensation was the sending sparks of fire through his body. He could feel his shaft growing with every inch the sheet moved. Finally uncovered he glanced up at Ellie as she looked down at him. His breath hitched and he groaned as he watched her unconsciously moisten her lips at the sight of his arousal. When she bent down, her hair just brushing his side he held his breath, and clenched his hands into fists. The thought of her taking him in her mouth caused his entire body to clench in anticipation. He couldn't believe how much he lusted after this woman.

Hell, who was he kidding? He loved her. More than loved her, he needed her. She was the other half of his soul and he didn't know if he could survive without her in his life. He knew his womanizing hurt her, but even knowing it did he found himself unwilling to stop. There was something about the chase and the hunt that heated his blood. None of the woman meant a dammed thing to him other than a quick fuck. He was just thankful Ellie seemed to understand his need for other women. He shuddered to think what would become of him if she ever left him.

The feel of the wet washcloth on his abdomen pulled him from his thoughts. He watched as Ellie washed him slowly and gently, gritting his teeth against the exquisite torture of her touch. By the time she rinsed him he was throbbing and he jerked against the restraints once again, trying to break free so he could make love to his wife.

"Dammit Ellie, let me loose," he demanded, his lust and need deepening his voice. He wanted to hold her, caress her but these dammed restraints were preventing him from doing just that.

"No," Ellie replied, before standing. She carried the pitcher, basin, and washcloth back into the bathroom before returning to the bed. Ellie stood there looking down at Jock. He was magnificent. So handsome, so virile and all she wanted was for him to need her as much as she needed him. Ellie picked up the quirt from the bedside table, flicking it gently against her thigh. Moving closer to the bed she trailed the end of the quirt across Jock's chest, and down his abdomen, skirting his groin over his hip and down to the top of his thighs.

"Ellie," moaned Jock, the feel of the leather sending shards of pleasure throughout his body. He could feel his shaft throbbing and pre-cum leaking from his glans. He whimpered his eyes closing tightly as he felt her gently flick the quirt against his erection. He tried to control his body, tried not to buck, reaching for the next sensations as she continued to flick and trail the soft leather over him.

"Oh gawd Ellie…please," he begged, eyes still shut tightly as the sensation of the leather moving across him slowly eroded his control. With a final soft flick Ellie dropped the quirt onto the side of the bed.

Ellie looked at her panting, straining husband and softly said, "Jock look at me. Open your eyes and look at me."

Jock slowly opened his eyes, his breath coming in harsh pants as his erection throbbed. The sight that greeted him robbed him of breath. Somehow Ellie had managed to straddle his body as he fought for control. She now leaned over him, her breasts just inches from his mouth, her eyes locked onto his. He could feel the heat from her centre as she hovered over him and he gasped as she slowly lowered herself onto him.

The feel of her was exquisite. He couldn't stop the groan that left his mouth as she slowly began to move on him. He tugged at the restraints as she moved tortuously slow. He couldn't stop the pleas that fell from his lips as she rode him slowly.

Finally, she seemed to take pity on him and she increased her speed. He met her as best he could thrust for thrust, pleading and begging her to release the restraints so he could flip them over and drive into her body. She ignored his pleas as she continued to ride him. Her movements driving his desire higher and higher. Leaning forward Ellie captured Jock's mouth in a feral kiss. She felt him surrender to her completely as she plundered his mouth and body.

Ellie knew it would be only moments before Jock came, she could feel his shaft hardening inside her even more. Wanting to join him in ecstasy she slipped her hand between their bodies to caress herself. Firm pressure coupled with the feel of Jock thrusting into her body triggered Ellie's orgasm. She shouted, "Jock!" as she shook above him. The intense squeezing of her body around him pushed Jock over the edge and he roared his release. The combination of his orgasm, the amount of alcohol he consumed earlier and his anger caused Jock to slip into oblivion.

Recovered, Ellie sat up slowly. Noticing Jock's deep even breaths she realized he had slipped into a deep sleep. Surprised but secretly pleased that she wouldn't have to resort to the drugs she had brought along to knock him out, Ellie climbed off Jock. Looking down at the evidence of their lovemaking she decided not to clean him. Let it be a reminder to him of what he lost. Moving confidently, she removed the restraints from his wrists and ankles before covering him with the sheet.

Picking up the restraints she moved to grab the quirt, but decided against it. She would leave the quirt as another reminder to what he lost. Placing the restraints back into her suitcase she removed the nightgown she wore and tossed it onto the bed. A further reminder to Jock. Quickly showering and dressing, she closed her suitcase and removed the letters from her purse. Placing both on the bedside table next to the quirt she looked down at her husband. Tears formed in her eyes, slipping over her cheeks. She ruthlessly stamped down her feelings, angrily wiping the tears off her cheeks. She wouldn't shed any more tears for this man. Picking up her suitcase she walked out of the room, softly closing the door.

It was time to go to her sons.

* * *

Jock woke slowly. He stretched; surprised he was able to move freely. Sitting up he looked around, shocked to see Punk sitting in the chair at the end of the bed, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"Where's Ellie?" Jock asked, surprised at not finding her lying next to him.

"Gone," answered Punk.

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" demanded Jock, stunned that Punk would allow Ellie to leave.

Punk stood and threw an envelope at Jock. "Read it," ordered Punk.

Jock ignored the letter and growled, "To hell with a letter. I want to know where my wife is."

"Read the god dammed letter," snarled Punk lifting the bottle to his lips.

Jock ripped open the letter and began to read it, paling at the words written. "No," Jock murmured. "No," he shouted, dropping his head into his hands. Raising his head, tears filling his eyes he looked at Punk. "Why…why didn't you stop her?"

"I didn't know," whispered Punk.

**The End**


	5. Memory

_The back-story for this one shot is JR was involved in an accident. The result of the accident is he suffered memory loss and a severely injured leg. Slowly memories begin to return and those memories lead him to Southfork. A place he hopes might give him answers. _

**Title:** Memory

**Author:** zephiey

**Rating:** K

**Pairing:** None

**Category:** One Shot, AU, Drama

**Warnings:** None  
**Disclaimer:** Dallas and its characters are the property of CBS, Larry Katzman and Warner Bros Studios. No infringement is intended from this work of fiction.

**Summary: **Memory is a tricky thing.

**Author Notes:** I may add more to this story idea in the future. But now this one shot stands alone.

**Memory**

The big man picked up his duffle bag, placed his battered cowboy hat on his head and limped his way across the concourse toward the taxi stand. As he walked, he looked around hoping something would spark a memory.

Nothing did.

It seemed the flood of disconnected memories that had started three weeks ago was now nothing more than a trickle. He just hoped this trip to Dallas wasn't in vain.

Reaching the taxi stand, he waited. A vacant taxi pulled up and he opened the back door tossing his duffle inside before removing his hat and gingerly sitting down on the back seat. His leg was throbbing and he knew he should take one of the muscle relaxers but he also knew if he did, he would sleep for at least twelve hours. He didn't have the luxury of sleep now. Setting his jaw against the constant pain in his leg, he closed the door to the taxi.

"Where to beau'?" asked the driver. He could tell the man wasn't a native of Texas, probably from Louisiana. He had become adept at figuring out where people were from in the two years he had travelled.

"Do ya' know the Southfork Ranch?" he asked in a lazy Texas drawl.

"Yeah," the driver answered. "Its bout forty miles outside town," he added.

"That's where I need to go," answered the man.

"It gonna be a 'spensive," said the driver, looking in the rear view mirror at his blue eyed passenger, his Cajun accent lending his words a musical cadence.

"Don't worry 'bout it," the blue-eyed stranger answered, reaching into his jeans and removing his billfold. He pulled a hundred dollar bill out and handed to the driver. "That should cover it," he said.

"Dat it will," said the driver, jotting down the destination, clipping the money to the clipboard and starting the metre before he eased the taxi into the exiting airport traffic.

Skilfully manoeuvring the taxi through the traffic then onto the expressway the driver looked at his passenger through the rear-view mirror. "Got family at Southfork?" he asked as he watched the man rub his leg. He knew the Ewing family owned the ranch; everyone knew the Ewing family owned the ranch.

"Not sure," answered his passenger. "That's what I am tryin' to find out."

Surprised at the man's answer the driver didn't respond immediately. Seeing the grimace of pain on the man's face and the way he kept shifting the driver said, "I've got some Tylenol if you need some," holding up the small bottle to show the man.

"Thanks," he said, taking the bottle from the driver's hand, shaking out two pills, and popping them in his mouth swallowing them dry.

"Here," the driver said, handing a small can of pineapple juice back to his passenger. "I keep a couple of cans in a cooler," explained the driver.

"Thanks," he said again, pulling the tab off the can and drinking down the cold juice. Finished he set the can down on his leg, leaned his head back, closing his eyes. The driver didn't say anything as he watched his fare slip into a light doze. Giving the afternoon traffic his full attention, he decided he would wake the man once they reached Southfork.

"Hey beau we here." The words penetrated the sleep-fogged mind of the blue-eyed man and he lifted his head from the back of the seat. Staring at the front of the house the man felt a tingle of recognition for a brief moment before it faded.

"Do I owe you anything more?" he asked, as he opened the back door.

"Naw beau dat hundred took care of it. I owe ya some change though."

"Keep it," said the man as he levered himself up from the back seat.

"Thanks beau. Need any help?"

"No thanks, I got it," the man said, reaching inside and grabbing his duffle and placing it on the ground. Straightening, he placed his hat on his head, and watched as the taxi drove away. Turning he picked up his duffle, and with a deep breath he limped toward the front door, grimacing at the pain in his leg.

Reaching the front door, he rang the bell and waited. A few minutes passed and he rang the bell again, this time pressing on it for a few minutes. The door opened and he was greeted by an older woman, her eyes wide.

Suddenly nervous, he took his hat off, fingering the brim. "Umm…ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you but…um…do you know me?"

Miss Ellie stood transfixed, her hands raised to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. Before her stood her oldest son. The son she had prayed to see again. The son she thought dead for two years.

"Ellie, who is it?" asked Clayton walking to the door, suddenly stopping in shock. "Oh my god!" he breathed out.

"Sir…I…" the man who knew himself only as John began, surprised to suddenly find himself pulled into a fierce hug by the woman and man standing in front of him. " Oh JR…oh my son…," cried the woman while the man just held him tightly.

John blinked the tears from his eyes. He had finally found home.

**The End**


	6. Disappointment

**Title:** Disappointment

**Author:** zephiey

**Rating:** K

**Pairing:** None

**Category:** AU, One Shot

**Warnings:** Angst  
**Disclaimer:** Dallas and its characters are the property of CBS, Larry Katzman and Warner Bros Studios. No infringement is intended from this work of fiction.

**Summary: **Disappointment is perhaps the hardest to endure but it often brings a new beginning.

**Disappointment**

* * *

"I hate you!" John Ross shouted.

"I hate you! I wish to God that you weren't my father. I wish Cliff Barnes had been my father, or Don or even Uncle Bobby. Anyone is better than you," John Ross yelled vehemently!

He didn't care that his father flinched at his words. He didn't care that his father's eyes filled with tears as he screamed and shouted his pain and frustration at the man who loved him more than anything in the world. He didn't care about anything but making his father feel the same pain he felt.

"Get out!" he yelled, his voice choke with tears. "Get the hell out! I don't want to ever see you again!" John Ross shouted, pushing his father out of his room before slamming the door in his father's face.

JR Ewing stood staring at the closed door. He laid a hand on the door, leaning his head against it as his son's words echoed in his head. His son hated him and it wasn't anyone's fault but his own.

He had caused this and now he had to live with it.

Taking a deep breath, JR caressed the dark wood and whispered, the tears in his voice easily heard. "You may hate me John Ross but I will always love you…always," said JR.

Straightening, JR stepped back from the door, walked down the hall and down the stairs. His steps were heavy and slow. Sue Ellen could feel the tears pooling in her eyes as she watched the man she would always love walk toward her. He didn't say anything to her as he picked up his Stetson from the hall table, and walked to the door. Opening the door, he placed his hat on, before taking a step out into the night.

A hand to his sleeve stopped him.

"J.R.?" said Sue Ellen. His name asking all the questions she couldn't voice.

JR covered Sue Ellen's elegant hand with his strong one, squeezing it slightly and looking at the woman he would always love. Giving her a soft smile, he bent and kissed her cheek before releasing her hand and walking out the door, closing it softly behind him.

Sue Ellen reached up and covered her cheek with her hand. JR's kiss felt like a final goodbye. Not thinking about the repercussions of her actions she quickly threw open the door. Before she had a chance to take one step outside, thundering footsteps sounded behind her and she turned to see her son tearing down the steps.

"Did he leave?" John Ross panted.

Sue Ellen stared at her son.

"Mom, did Daddy leave?" John Ross asked again, grabbing his mother by the arms, shaking her slightly.

"Yes, he just left," said Sue Ellen.

"Which way did he go?" asked John Ross. John Ross shook his mother's arms once again. "Mom... which way?"

"I don't know," she said. "But he couldn't have got far. Come on," she said, grabbing a light jacket and running out the door and down the steps, Sue Ellen didn't bother to see if John Ross followed. Her concern was finding JR. Sue Ellen looked left then right trying to see JR in the dark night.

"There he is," shouted John Ross, catching a glimpse of his father, wearing his distinctive Stetson in the muted street light. John Ross sprinted after his father, instinctively knowing his mother was right behind him.

"JR… wait...," shouted Sue Ellen.

"Daddy…wait…Daddy…Daddy," John Ross shouted as he raced down the street, ignoring the looks from passerby's as he yelled.

JR stopped and turned when he heard someone yelling daddy. He had only seconds to brace himself before his sixteen-year-old son was in his arms.

"Daddy…I'm sorry. I didn't mean it…I'm sorry," John Ross kept repeating as he clung to his father. JR hugged his son tightly to him, his voice cracking as he said, "Shh…John Ross…shhh…I'm sorry too."

Sue Ellen arrived a few minutes later and her son and ex-husband immediately pulled her into a hug. She returned their hug before linking her arms through theirs and leading them home and toward a new beginning.

**The End**


	7. Remembering A Sequel to Memory

**Title:** Remembering – Sequel to Memory

**Author:** zephiey

**Rating:** K

**Pairing:** None

**Category:** One Shot, AU, Drama

**Warnings:** None  
**Disclaimer:** Dallas and its characters are the property of CBS, Larry Katzman and Warner Bros Studios. No infringement is intended from this work of fiction.

**Summary: **A conversation helps with remembering.

**Author Notes:** This is a sequel to my one shot Memory. It takes place the morning after J.R. returns to Southfork.

**Remembering**

* * *

John limped into the dining room, sitting down at the table and reached for the coffee pot that sat on the table. He poured himself a cup of coffee before taking a sip of the strong black drink. Sighing softly, he sat back in the chair allowing the quiet of the morning to wash over him. He thought back to yesterday, about his arrival and his discovery that this place, this ranch was his home. He had spent a few hours talking to his mother…a smile formed on his face when he thought about the woman who was his mama.

For two years he had thought he was all alone in the world, that he had no one but himself but that all changed yesterday. Yesterday he found out he had a mama, a step-father- his father had died a few years ago- he didn't know how he felt about his daddy being dead. He didn't remember him, but from what Miss Ellie had said, he had loved him. John didn't know if he did or not but at least he knew he had a father. He was thrilled that he had three brothers, three sister-in-laws, a niece and a nephew. But the most amazing news was that he did indeed have a wife and a son, the vague recollections he had of hazel eyes were more than a simple dream. For two years, since his accident he had wondered if he had anyone and now he knew he did.

J.R.'s leg throbbed and he rubbed it trying to ease the discomfort. Twelve hours of sleep had helped ease the pain but it wasn't gone completely. Sitting back, he let his thoughts wonder to his wife and son. He tried to bring up a sharp memory of his wife but he couldn't.

All he could remember were hazel eyes, the feel of soft hair and the scent of perfume but he was unable to develop a complete picture of the woman who was his wife. Every time he tried to bring an image forward, it was hazy, indistinct. The only part of her that was clear was her eyes. He knew he would know her eyes anywhere. His son was just as unclear. He could see a smile, and blue eyes but a clear image just wouldn't come forward.

His neurologist, Doctor Murad Chamdraja, had cautioned him not to try to force the memories forward, instead allow them to appear. However, there were times he felt frustrated at not being able to remember anything. Three weeks ago, he had a flood of disconnected memories, memories that led to him taking time off from his ironworker job to book a flight to Dallas in hopes that this time the memories would lead to more than a dead end. Six months ago, a flood of memories had led him to a small town in Louisiana. Nine months ago, another set of memories had him taking a trip to Oklahoma. No one in either place had known him or of him and he had returned to Virginia angry and depressed. Murad had counselled him not to become dejected at his lack of success but there had been times he had been close to giving up. He had almost not taken this trip but Murad had encouraged him to come. He was glad he had listened, realizing he would need to call Murad and inform him he had found his family and past.

Taking another sip of coffee, John continued to think about his wife and son. He was so deep in thought that the sound of someone else entering the dining room caused him to jump. Looking over, he saw a young boy; about ten year's old standing in the doorway of the dining room.

"Hello," he said, smiling. John didn't know which one of the boys this one was, part of him hoped it was his son. Miss Ellie had told him his name was John Ross and the other part wished just as desperately it was his nephew, the boy called Christopher- he didn't know if he was ready to face his son, a son he couldn't remember apart from a few fleeting pieces of memory.

"Hello Daddy," said John Ross. "Do ya remember me?" he asked, watching the man who was his father close his eyes before opening them again. The look and tears in his daddy's eyes told John Ross his daddy didn't really remember him. John Ross fought back his tears. Grandma then Mama had explained that Daddy might not remember him. Being told he didn't and not seeing his daddy's smile, the one his daddy only gave him was completely different.

John Ross took a deep breath, stood taller and with confidence that once mirrored his daddy's he walked up to the his daddy, held his hand out and said in a strong voice, "I'm John Ross Ewing the third. You can call me John Ross and I'm your son."

John took his son's hand in his and said, "Hello, John Ross. I'm pleased to meet you. My name is John Ross too but most call me John."

"No, most call you J.R. or Mr. Ewing," said John Ross, the certainty in his voice unmistakable. "We're both named after Granddaddy Jock. He was John Ross Ewing, but everyone called him Jock. You're named John Ross Ewing, Jr. but everyone calls ya J.R. and like I said I'm John Ross Ewing III and people call me John Ross." John Ross finished. He tilted his head to the side, looked at his daddy with small grin on his face and added, "But I'll just call ya Daddy, since that's who ya are and it'd be less confusing for everyone."

John, now known as J.R. looked at the boy in front of him. He could feel the tears fill his eyes and blinked them away rapidly. "Okay," he answered gruffly. He didn't trust himself to say anything more his control was too tenuous. He watched as John Ross took a seat next to him, before pouring himself some juice. After taking a large drink of juice, John Ross sat his glass back down on the table.

"Grandma said she told you who was who in the family," said John Ross, looking at his father.

"Yes, she did," replied J.R.

"Well tellin' and knowin' are two different things. How about when everyone comes in I tell ya who is who, this way you can match a name with a face," offered John Ross.

"Oh thank god," said J.R. "I was worried about knowin' who was who. I didn't want to call someone by the wrong name," he whispered to John Ross.

John Ross laughed. "Don't worry Daddy, I've got ya covered," said John Ross smiling and taking his father's hand in his. J.R. looked down at the small hand in his large one and felt his chest explode with the warmth of a thousand suns. 'I've got a son,' he thought returning John Ross's smile with one of his own.

John Ross's smile became wider when he saw the smile on his daddy's face. It was his special smile. The smile that was his all alone and John Ross knew even if his daddy's head didn't remember him his heart did. Laughing, John Ross reached for the dish of pancakes.

He was starving!

* * *

"That's Uncle Bobby and Aunt Pam. Uncle Bobby is your youngest brother. It's you, Uncle Gary, Uncle Ray then Uncle Bobby," explained John Ross as they watched the two walk into the dining room. The males in the room stood as Pam walked in. John Ross had been explaining who was who as each person came down for breakfast.

First, it had been Christopher, then Grandpa Clayton, then Grandma. When Grandma had come into the room, John Ross had noticed his daddy stood up and didn't sit down until Grandma did.

"Daddy, why did you stand up when Grandma came in?" asked John Ross. He couldn't remember his daddy every doing that before.

"It's just something I do. Its good manners to always stand up when a lady enters a room," said J.R.

"But I don't remember you ever…," began John Ross.

"John Ross, years ago your daddy, Granddaddy Jock and all your uncles would always stand when a woman came into the room," explained Grandma. "Your Granddaddy Jock taught all the boys their manners. But as time went on, they stopped doing it. I'm not sure exactly why. But I must admit it is nice to see your daddy do it once more," said Miss Ellie.

"Would it be okay if I did it?" John Ross asked his father. "Me too?" asked Christopher.

"I don't see why not," answered J.R., who then explained when it was appropriate to stand and when you could remain seated. Both boys listened intently. Miss Ellie shared a smile with Clayton.

"Aunt Pam is a Barnes. I'm not sure what that means," said John Ross. "But I've heard you say it often so it must mean something," explained John Ross.

"I don't know what it means either, son," shrugged J.R. "Maybe we ought to ask your Aunt Pam," said J.R. as he took his seat again.

"Okay," said John Ross as he sat down again. "Aunt Pam?"

"Yes, John Ross?" answered Pam.

"What does you being a Barnes mean? I was telling Daddy who was who and that you are a Barnes but I don't know what that means," explained John Ross.

"Dammit John Ross…," began Bobby.

"Don't curse at my son," warned J.R., his voice soft but firm.

"J.R. you're not back one day, and you are already…," yelled Bobby, rising to his feet.

Miss Ellie and Clayton were both ready to tell Bobby to calm down when J.R.'s firm voice said, "Sit down boy!"

His words and his tone was so reminiscent of Jock Ewing that everyone at the table was stunned. Bobby stared.

"I said sit down boy. You don't raise your voice at the table or to my son. Now John Ross asked a question that neither one of us knows the answer to. If Pam doesn't mind I would appreciate her explaining it," said J.R., his tone firm.

Pam reached out and placed a hand on Bobby's arm. "Sit down Bobby," she said. Turning to J.R. and John Ross, she began to explain about the Barnes and the Ewing's. Throughout her explanation both John Ross and J.R. were silent. Finished she sat back and waited. She knew J.R. would have something scathing to say and prepared herself for it.

J.R. rubbed his bottom lip, an action that was familiar to everyone at the table. He did it often when he was deep in thought. Dropping his hand to the table, he leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped loosely around his coffee cup.

"Now let me get this straight. Our fathers began feuding over a company they both started. They were partners until they had a falling out after my daddy placed some contracts in his name to keep your daddy, Digger from drinking away the profits," asked J.R.

Pamela nodded.

"And when your daddy found out about it he lost his temper, attacked my daddy, accusing him of not only stealing his company but his woman, that woman being Miss Ellie, my mama, correct?"

Pamela nodded.

"And this feud has lasted to this day, correct?"

Pamela nodded again.

"Idiots!" said J.R. Everyone at the table stared at J.R.

"Daddy are you calling Granddaddy Jock and Digger idiots?" asked John Ross.

"Yes, I am," said J.R.

"Why?"

"Yes, why?" asked Pamela.

"Because those two men let a situation that could have easily been resolved get out of hand. They let their egos get in the way of their common sense," said J.R. "And I find it difficult to believe that Digger didn't know his drinking was causing him to lose Miss Ellie. Jock didn't have to steal Miss Ellie, Digger pushed her away."

"How do you figure that?" asked Bobby.

"I may have just discovered her as my mama again but you can't tell me that she…, " said J.R. gesturing to their mother, " …would put up being second fiddle to anything, either alcohol or oil."

Before anyone could say another word, John Ross noticed his mother at the doorway of the dining room. He stood up and shouted, "Mama!" before running over to her.

Surprised but secretly pleased at his enthusiastic greeting Sue Ellen hugged him to her. "Good morning," she said laughing. John Ross grabbed her hand and pulled her over to where his Daddy stood, talking the entire time.

"Mama, I've been helping Daddy put faces to names so he would know who is who. He yelled at Uncle Bobby for cursing at me when I asked Aunt Pam what being a Barnes meant. She explained it and Daddy called Granddaddy Jock and Digger idiots and told Uncle Bobby that Grandma wouldn't play second fiddle to anything not even oil. And he has been teaching Christopher and me all about manners and stuff," said John Ross. Turning to look at his mother John Ross asked, "Mama, did you know men are supposed to stand every time a lady enters a room?"

"Yes," answered Sue Ellen. "Your daddy used to do that all the time when we were dating."

John Ross smiled. He loved to hear about when his mama and daddy dated. "But we don't have to do it at school…which is good because the girls there are always walking into rooms," added John Ross.

John Ross stopped in front of his daddy, who was staring at his mama. John Ross wasn't sure what his daddy was thinking but from the look on his face, he was sure his daddy was stunned at how pretty his mama was. John Ross thought his mama was the prettiest lady in all of Texas. She was even prettier than Aunt Pam, something he didn't tell Christopher or Uncle Bobby. Now standing between the two, he made introductions.

"Daddy this is my mama, your wife, Sue Ellen Ewing," said John Ross. John Ross nudged his father. "Say something," he whispered loudly, causing everyone around the table to chuckle.

J.R. looked down at John Ross, who smiled up at him encouragingly and then back up into the hazel eyes of his wife. Taking a deep breath J.R. said the first thing that came to mind.

"Hello Miss Texas."

**The End**


	8. Haleyville Redux

**Title:** Haleyville Redux

**Author:** zephiey

**Rating:** T

**Pairing:** None

**Category:** One Shot, AU

**Warnings:** None  
**Disclaimer:** Dallas and its characters are the property of CBS, Larry Katzman and Warner Bros Studios. No infringement is intended from this work of fiction.

**Summary: **A different view of the Haleyville story.

**Haleyville Redux**

* * *

The shower wasn't hot but it felt good. He washed quickly, wasting no time in getting clean. He knew he had only two minutes to shower. To wash the dirt, grime and soap from his body before the guards escorted him back to his cell for the night. It only required being pulled out of the shower once partially rinsed to make him cognizant of the time constraints imposed on him. Clean and rinsed he stepped from under the shower wrapping the small towel around his waist, tucking the edges in as best he could. He slid his feet into the flip-flop before raising his arms, placing his hands behind his head, and interlacing his fingers. He waited patiently for the guards to return.

The scrape of the lock in the door announced their arrival. His gaze remained on the floor. Something that went against every fibre of his being but he made sure he didn't raise his eyes. The guards had shows him exactly what happened to prisoners that eyeballed them. The half dozen beatings he took were enough to make even him learn keeping his gaze on the floor was best.

The guards shackled his wrists and legs efficiently before pushing him forward out of the showers and down the hall to his cell. As he walked, one of the guards ripped the small towel from his waist, laughing the sight of him walking through population naked. He ignored the catcalls and whistles from the other prisoners as he was led to his small cell at the end of the prison block.

He waited patiently as he was unshackled before being shoved inside his cell. He did not attempt to turn or catch the towel as he waited for the guards to lock his cell and leave. He stood facing the barred window until he heard both guards move away from his cell and down the corridor. Only then did he pick up the small towel, hang it over the end of his bunk before climbing in naked. He pulled the rough cotton sheet and blanket over him, exhausted from the days labour and within minutes fell asleep, his dreams taking him home.

The next morning he dressed and ate his large breakfast quickly prior to the guards' arrival. It would be the only meal he would get until evening. He assumed his standard position and once shackled followed the guards outside. He climbed into the truck quickly despite his shackled wrists and ankles, sat down on the floor bed of the truck with two guards flanking either side of him and waited to see where today would take him. It would either be the marble quarry to move stone or to one of the area farms to work. Either place would mean twelve hours of hard physical labour before returning to jail. Something he was familiar with growing up and had become quite used to in the past sixteen weeks.

* * *

Harv Smithfield walked into the small county courthouse and walked out forty-five minutes later completely disgusted. This was going to be a bit harder than he had originally thought-hard but not impossible. He immediately began making a mental list of all the calls he would need to make as he drove to his hotel. The first phone call would be to Southfork and the family. They would need to know what they were facing.

It wasn't good.

In fact, it was worse than they originally thought.

But for all of J.R.'s faults and peccadilloes Harv knew John Ross Ewing, Junior was not a rapist- a bastard and a son of a bitch…YES… a rapist, NO! All Harv and Scotty had to do was prove the allegations were false and J.R. Ewing would be a free man.

Harv just hoped the sayin' was as easy as the doin'.

* * *

The court had come to order. This was the sixth day of the trial. The prosecution was determined to paint J.R. Ewing as the devil- evil incarnate and while most in Dallas would agree that J.R. could give Lucifer a run for his money on a good day, he was not evil incarnate.

Scotty watched the prosecution try to browbeat Cally Harper, the alleged victim. Scotty was surprised when he discovered that it had not been Cally but her brothers who had brought up the charges against J.R. In fact, Cally vehemently denied that any sexual intercourse, consensual or otherwise had taken place between her and J.R.

"Miss Harper, do you expect the court to believe that you and Mister Ewing, a man whose reputation as a womanizer…," began the prosecuting attorney.

"Objection, Your Honour. Mister Ewing's reputation is not on trial here," said Scotty.

"Sustained. Rephrase your question counsellor," replied the judge.

"Yes, Your Honour. Miss Harper," the prosecutor began, "you say Mister Ewing and yourself spent the entire night talking. If all you did was talk then please explain to the court why your brothers found you in his room and in his bed, with no clothes on the following morning?" asked the prosecutor.

"We fell asleep while talking. My shirt was off but I still wore my t...," Cally said before the prosecution interrupted.

"Your shirt was off?" interrupted the prosecution.

"Yes but my t…," Cally tried to add.

The prosecution interrupted her again. "Was your shirt off or on?"

Cally didn't answer immediately.

"Miss Harper…was your shirt off or on?" asked the prosecution again. "Miss Harper…answer the question. Was your shirt off or on?" he reiterated forcibly.

"Off," Cally answered softly.

"No more questions, Your Honour," the prosecution said smirking at J.R., Harv and Scotty as he retook his seat.

Scotty stood and walked over to stand in front of the young woman. "Miss Harper, what did you and the defendant Mister Ewing talk about all night?" he asked gently.

"Everything," answered Cally.

"Everything Miss Harper?" asked Scotty. "Can you be more specific?"

"Objection…relevance," said the prosecution.

"Your Honour, Miss Harper claims she and the defendant talked all night. I am simply trying to establish what they spoke about," Scotty explained. Scotty knew it was a gamble but he hoped the judge was as tired of the prosecutions antics as he was.

She was.

"Overruled," she proclaimed. "Continue your line of questioning Mr. Demarest."

"Thank you Your Honour," replied Scotty. Turning back to Cally Scotty asked again, "What exactly did you talk about?"

Cally smiled remembering the enjoyable conversation with J.R. Scotty fought the smile that threatened to break out. Cally's reaction was perfect for the jury to see. "Family…friends. Favourite memories. Places he's been too…people he has met."

"You say he spoke of family. Anyone specific?' asked Scotty.

"Oh yes," replied Cally smiling. "He spoke about his mama, Miss Ellie and how his daddy and her met and married. He spoke of his daddy, Jock Ewing and his brothers Bobby and Gary. He talked of how they used to play football on the front lawn and how one time when he was about fourteen his mama had made brownies for some to do at the ranch but wouldn't let him and his brothers have any. Bobby, that is his youngest brother, was only four and really wanted a brownie. So J.R. snuck into the kitchen and took four brownies."

"Four? Why four?" asked Scotty.

"He said he took four so Bobby could have two since he really liked chocolate," replied Cally.

"And did he get caught?"

"Not immediately. But his mama caught him eating his brownie outside the barn…he made Bobby and Gary eat theirs inside the barn so they wouldn't get caught," said Cally. "He said his mama took a switch to him and when his daddy got home he was grounded for two weeks…but he said he didn't mind… his brothers…especially Bobby enjoyed the brownies."

Scotty smiled in response to the soft laughter from the jury. "Did he talk about anyone else?"

"Yes," answered Cally. "His wife and his son."

"He talked about his wife while lying in bed with you?" asked Scotty, surprised.

"He was lying on the bed. I was sitting up against the headboard," explained Cally. "It was the only place to sit other than the floor," added Cally.

Scotty walked and stood in front of the jury box. He turned back to Cally and asked, "What did he tell you about his wife?"

Cally looked over at J.R. and smiled softly remembering how J.R. sounded as he spoke about Sue Ellen. "He told me how they met. How he was a guest judge at the Miss Texas contest and how he knew she was the woman he wanted to marry as soon as he saw her."

"Because she was beautiful? Worthy?" asked Scotty, recalling all the stories as to why J.R. really married Sue Ellen.

"No… he said there was something about her, something different. She was beautiful but it was more than just physical beauty. He said he fell in love with her on sight. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to like him when they met or so he said. He told me it took him weeks before she finally agreed to have dinner with him. And took him two years to get her to marry him."

"And did he tell you he had a good marriage?" asked Scotty. He was taking another gamble, he knew what the J.R. Ewing's marriage was like and hoped the gut feeling he had would pay off.

"No... their marriage wasn't good," Cally said. A loud indrawn hiss could be heard behind the defendant. Scotty didn't even have to look to see who made such a sound. He knew it had been Sue Ellen.

"But not because of his wife Sue Ellen," Cally explained quickly. "J.R. said it was his fault that their marriage wasn't good. He knows he is to blame for her alcoholism and all of her affairs. If he hadn't treated her as he did or had countless affairs she wouldn't have needed to drink or find solace with someone else."

"Is that all he said?"

"No," answered Cally. "He said she is a great mom... a far better parent than he could ever be and it is only because of her that he had any sort of relationship with his son."

Scotty allowed the jury to digest that piece of information before he asked his next question. "Miss Harper, you and the defendant fell asleep while talking, correct?"

"Yes."

"In bed?"

"Yes."

Scotty faced the jury. "Were you dressed?' he asked.

"Well…yes," answered Cally.

Scotty turned to face Cally. "Explain please," he asked.

"J.R. had his boots and socks off along with his shirt. He had a t-shirt and jeans on. I had my top shirt off and I was wearing my t-shirt and jeans. It was a bit warm in the room and we had the windows opened. He had closed the door because the screen door had a hole in it and bugs kept flying into the room."

Scotty turned back to the jury. "So at no time were you or Mister Ewing nude?"

"No…not at all," Cally said strongly.

"Thank you Miss Harper. No more questions Your Honour," said Scotty walking back to his seat.

* * *

Today was the day. Today was the day J.R. took the stand. Harv and Scotty just hoped their plan didn't backfire. J.R. had no idea of the plan and its success hinged on his honest reactions.

Harv questioned the Harper brothers while Scotty sat back and enjoyed the older man's style. By the time Harv was finished with the brothers there was no doubt of both men's greed. They saw J.R. Ewing and their sister as a means to an end. It wouldn't surprise Scotty when this trial ended and J.R. acquitted that both Harper brothers didn't find themselves facing numerous charges of their own.

Harv returned to his seat.

John Ross Ewing, Junior was called to the stand and the real trial began.

J.R. glared at Scotty and the judge. He couldn't believe they were asking him to do this.

"Mr. Ewing, please stand and remove your jacket and shirt. Or I will have the guards to it for you,' said Judge Esposito. She didn't know what the Ewing defence team had in mind but she was sure it had something to do with certain guards at the county jail. And if it did, then it would be her pleasure to bring charges against every single one of those jackasses. Judge Esposito watched as Mister Ewing stood and removed his jacket then unbuttoned his shirt before turning around and presenting his back to the jury.

The shock and surprise that filled the courtroom died down as Judge Esposito brought the courtroom back to order.

During the course of the trial, Sue Ellen had noticed how much weight J.R. had lost and how fit he seemed to be. But she hadn't realized to what extent until he removed his shirt. His arms, chest and back were well-toned and defined. J.R. had always been a good-looking, attractive well-built man. Her favourite part of him after his eyes was his chest and biceps but now with the added muscle definition from his enforced labour Sue Ellen found herself looking forward to being held in his arms. She shook her head at the image of him holding her up against the door of their Southfork bedroom.

"These whip marks on your back are the result of a beating, correct Mr. Ewing?" asked Scotty.

"Yes," J.R. answered sitting down fuming and shirtless.

"Why were you beaten? Was it because of a rule infraction?"

"No," answered J.R. "I was beaten because I wouldn't admit to raping Cally Harper. Her brothers paid the guards to try to convince me to admit to the rape. I refused… so they whipped me."

"Objection," cried the prosecution.

"Overruled," replied Judge Esposito. "And counsellor you are still on notice concerning your antics earlier. Don't make me find you in contempt," she warned.

The prosecution sat down. As the defence continued to question Ewing, the prosecutor knew his case was lost. He just hoped his freedom wasn't also.

* * *

"Have a safe trip J.R." Cally said as she reached up and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you Cally," said J.R. "Remember what I said, if you ever come to Dallas give me a call," he added kissing her cheek in return. "Good luck with school and if you ever need anything…," he said.

"I'll call. I promise," she said as she opened the driver side door and closed it after he got in. "Now git…your family is waitin' and J.R…."

"Yes?" he said.

"Don't screw this chance up. You might not get another," Cally said softly. She moved away from the car. J.R. nodded and pulled away from the curb, waving as he drove off.

Cally waved back. "Good luck and god speed cowboy," she whispered before heading into the house, her future set.

**The End**


End file.
